


Material

by KNZone



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Eventual Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Revisiting this work, Work In Progress, rewriting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KNZone/pseuds/KNZone
Summary: Stiles didn’t know if he should be insulted or not. He decided to be nervous instead. “Are you sure? Cuz the plan is definitely depending on this circle. If I can’t get it to work, Jackson will break out and kill more people.” He poked the bag like a child. He was skeptical.Deaton put down his tools and turned to Stiles. “Yes, Stiles. All you have to do is believe and it will work.”Stiles snorted. “Believe? What is this, Peter Pan?” He picked up the bag anyways.Deaton gave Stiles the strange neutral smile that he always had on. Stiles rolled his eyes and walked away to load the Jeep up.“Remember, Stiles. Just believe.”“Right. Thanks, Doc.”*****Stiles didn’t think the guilt would ever go away, but he smiled anyways. He squeezed Scott’s hand, grateful for the friendship. He would get better, and he would protect everyone better. The Nogitsune may have left a gaping hole in his heart, but he also left him with strength.With the memories at the forefront of his mind, he wrapped Scott in a hug. If he was to be riddled with them anyways, he would use them as a reminder and a warning. A reminder of the pain in his friends’ eyes and a warning of his power.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

“Mountain ash? You want to give that to me?! Are you sure?” Stiles stared at the full garbage bag.

Deaton nodded, not bothering to look up from whatever he was doing at the moment. “You’ll be fine Stiles. Any human can spread mountain ash in a circle. It takes a little of skill to activate it, but I’m sure you can do it. You have a slight spark that will activate the ash when you complete the circle.”

Stiles didn’t know if he should be insulted or not. He decided to be nervous instead. “Are you sure? Cuz the plan is definitely depending on this circle. If I can’t get it to work, Jackson will break out and kill more people.” He poked the bag like a child. He was skeptical.

Deaton put down his tools and turned to Stiles. “Yes, Stiles. All you have to do is believe and it will work.”

Stiles snorted. “Believe? What is this, Peter Pan?” He picked up the bag anyways.

Deaton gave Stiles the strange neutral smile that he always had on. Stiles rolled his eyes and walked away to load the Jeep up.

“Remember, Stiles. Just believe.”

“Right. Thanks, Doc.”

**Months Later**

“Scott! You can’t go! It’s clearly a trap!” Stiles tried to convince his friend. Scott had his back turned away and was already heading to the door. Stiles grabbed onto his friend’s shoulder and moved in front of him. “Scott, come on. Just stop for a little bit!”

Stiles pushed Scott’s shoulders, but the werewolf strength just dragged Stiles along. Scott smiled sadly and continued. “I know it’s a trap, but there’s nothing else I can do. I have to go and help them.” Scott grabbed Stiles’ wrists gently and moved them aside.

He moved to open the door. Scott turned his head a little to glance at Stiles. “I’ll be back,” he tried to reassure Stiles. It wasn’t very convincing. The door closed behind Scott.

Stiles slumped against the wall and pressed his head into his hands. He couldn’t think of anything that would help his friends against the Alpha Pack. They were just too powerful. What was he supposed to do? Tag along and slow everyone down? He was human. Painfully human.

Again and again, he’s reminded that he can’t help anyone. He couldn’t just keep sitting around whenever his friends were out risking their lives. Right then and there, Stiles made a decision. He picked up the phone and dialed the only person who could provide guidance. He didn’t like it, but it was needed.

The phone rang once… twice… click!

“Deaton?”

**Days Later**

“Nothing’s working!” Stiles exclaimed as he threw the old leather-bound book at the wall. “It’s been days! Why can’t I do the simplest thing!”

Deaton continued to work as Stiles’ flopped onto the cold ground. He hummed but didn’t comment.

“The only thing that works is that damn mountain ash!” he muttered into the ground.

“I did warn you that you only have a small spark. The mountain ash is a strange form of supernatural magic, but it is rather simple for most people.”

Stiles pulled his face off the floor. “Not helping!”

“Mr. Stilinski. Magic isn’t for everyone.”

“Well, I don’t know what else to do! Everyone’s always in danger, and there’s never anything I can do about it!”

Deaton sighed. “You do what you can. No one expects you to be out on the frontline as a human, and if they do, they aren’t your friend.”

Blood rushed through Stiles’ ears. “That’s just it! No one expects anything of me! Allison is always out there with everyone and she’s human! Why can’t I do that?!”

Deaton leveled an unimpressed look on Stiles. “Then become a hunter if you’re so determined. Allison has natural talent, so she progressed quickly. It’ll be difficult to have any immediate effect as you are now.”

The calm demeanor and logic around Deaton’s words threw Stiles over the edge. “I don’t want to be Robin all the time!” Stiles exclaimed, feeling his clenched fists nearly pierce skin.

There was a shift in Deaton’s usually neutral state. His eyes shifted to the jar of mountain ash beside Stiles. The jar was cracked.

“Hold on. I think I have an idea.”

**Days Later**

“I can help!” Stiles tried to convince everyone.

Derek and Scott weren’t having it though. They both shook their heads, frustrated. “Stiles! You’re human! We can’t have you out there against the Alpha Pack and Blake!”

“Allison’s out there! Even Lydia is getting out there more than me,” Stiles was angry. He just wanted to help.

“For the last time, Stiles. No!” Scott argued back. The anger seeped through his voice, making his eyes flash golden. Stiles swore he saw a hint of the crimson Alpha color, but he didn’t care at the moment. He was hurt that they didn’t believe in him. He stepped away from his friend who immediately looked regretful.

“Fine.”

Stiles watched as Blake broke through the glass ceiling in Derek’s loft. He wasn’t going to let her slide. She had his dad, and that was all that mattered. Kali and the twins went at it with the Darach, so Stiles took advantage of their distraction.

He took out a small pill-like capsule from his pocket. He threw it up in the air, concentrating. The pill split in half, revealing the dark mountain ash. He steeled himself for what was to come.

“Ashes to ashes,” he whispered to the ash. In an instant, the ash spread, increasing in amount. Soon, there was enough to form a thick dark cloud the size of a person. “Solid.” The ash condensed into a smooth ball. If Stiles didn’t know better, he would’ve thought it was made of metal.

Stiles stepped out from his hiding spot just in time to see Blake kill Kali with glass. The sight shocked him, but he couldn’t stop now. The Darach spotted him the orb floating beside him, so he quickly jumped into action. Lydia stared in shock from her corner.

“This time, I fight,” Stiles stated simply, glaring at the villain before him.

“What were you thinking?!” Scott screamed. “You could’ve gotten hurt! Or worse, you could’ve died!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Stiles retaliated. “That monster has our parents! I can’t just sit around and wait in my room! I’m going to fight too!”

“There’s no point in getting our parents back if one of us dies!”

“Well, I didn’t die, did I?! In fact, I nearly caught her! I could’ve had her if you hadn’t gotten in the way!” Stiles threw a finger in Derek’s face. “I had everything under control, and you had to ruin it because you think I’m too weak!”

Scott, Derek, and Lydia all looked shocked. Lydia called the two of them when Stiles had started the fight against Blake. Stiles nearly captured her when the two werewolves barged in and tried to take Stiles away from the battlefront. She escaped when Derek grabbed Stiles, breaking him away from the fight.

Derek had the decency to look guilty, but Scott still fumed. “You should’ve told us what you were doing!”

That riled Stiles up even more. “Oh, like you’re one to talk! At least I tried to tell you!”

Stiles’ words finally broke through to Scott. He took a step back and looked at his feet, ashamed.

Stiles calmed down, feeling bad about yelling. “Look. I just want to help. I can’t sit on the bench anymore. I can’t watch you all risk your lives while I’m just gathering information.”

Scott nodded. Derek made eye contact with Stiles. He couldn’t tell what he saw in the Alpha’s eyes, but he knew he couldn’t stare anymore without gathering attention. He tore his eyes away and exited, leaving the loft in a grim state.

**Days Later**

“I GOT IT!” Stiles yelled through gritted teeth. He held the collapsing root cellar up with mountain ash beams. Argent, Scott’s mom, and Stiles’ dad quickly rushed out of the cellar without hesitation.

The moment they were out, Stiles released the ash and, and the cellar fell apart. He let out the breath he had been holding and fell to his knees. He supported himself with his forearms.

The Sheriff knelt down and pulled Stiles into a hug, saying things Stiles really couldn’t hear. He was too exhausted from the car crash and rushing to the nemeton. Stiles smiled for assurance and passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles wandered through the empty halls of Beacon Hills, feeling an eerie presence… everywhere. He stared down the hallway, searching for something. Anything.

Everything was still. Not a single noise echoed through the halls. He knew something was there with him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He knew he shouldn’t walk down the dark hallway, but he couldn’t exactly stand around either.

Stiles tilted his head a little bit. A habit he must’ve picked up from the wolves. He listened and thought. As he took his first step though, he was ripped out of the darkness of the hallways.

“Hey, bud. You okay?” the Sheriff asked his son, concerned. Stiles didn’t look up from his cup of coffee as he stood in the kitchen. “Are you sure you can go back to school so soon?... After everything that’s happened?”

Stiles glanced at his dad and nodded. He still felt the hint of fear coursing through him, but he couldn’t remember why. How long had he even been in the kitchen?

“Okay…” the Sheriff hesitated. “How about I drive you today? Your car is still wrecked, so I can try to pick you up later too.”

Stiles nodded, searching his dad’s face for whatever reason. “Yeah… Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Stiles averted his gaze to the ground and went to grab his bag.

“Alright kiddo. I’ll go start the car.” The Sheriff was clearly glad Stiles accepted.

Once in his room, Stiles took a breath, trying to calm down the loud beating of his heart. Deaton told him there would be a darkness over his heart because of the sacrifice, but this felt wrong. His body was more out of sorts than usual. Stiles exhaled, grabbed his bag, and went to meet his dad in the car.

He would just have to ask Allison and Scott about it.

The day had been unproductive. Scott and Allison were seeing things and having trouble, but it was different for Stiles. In fact, he could barely remember his day. Everything was jumbled even though he knew he was at school with everyone.

He laid down, deciding that sleep may help. He was so exhausted that he was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

**Days Later**

Stiles sat in class with prominent dark circles under his eyes. He had been afraid to fall asleep since more often than not, he woke up screaming. His dad was always there to hold Stiles when he had a nightmare.

Scott poked Stiles in the back with a pen. Stiles turned to talk to his friend. “Hey dude. You okay?” Scott had that worried look on his face that always made Stiles wish he could solve all their problems with a snap.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Scott,” his voice broke. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was the lack of use or the cry he was holding in the back of his throat. When he looked around carefully, he realized he didn’t know how long he had been at school. He didn’t remember getting here, or putting on the clothes he was wearing, or doing the assignment in front of him, or half the people in his class, or even what class he was in. More importantly, he didn’t remember waking up.

“Scott, something’s wrong.” He grabbed onto his friend, losing his grip on sanity for a moment. His breathing changed ever so slightly. He let the tears start to form. “Scott,” he pleaded, “is this real?”

**Days Later**

The party raged around Stiles. The lights flashed at the perfect times and the blacklight showed off the paint on everyone’s skin. Stiles couldn’t help, but stare at the key in his hand.

It glowed, just like everyone else. As he stared, everything fell into place in his mind, even though none of it made sense. The bomber and Kira’s kidnapping. The seemingly random missing chunks of time from when they entered the power plant to when they were being interrogated.

He had to make sure. His suspicions were just that: suspicions. Without a word of goodbye, Stiles left the party and headed to the school with a mission in mind.

**The Next Day**

“Scott, I swear. It was me! It was all here! I don’t know how it’s all gone already!” Stiles gestured to his surroundings. They stood in the chemistry room. Well, Scott stood, and Stiles paced.

“The key. I had it with me. Where’d it go? I know I had it!” Stiles ran his hands through his hair. “It glowed at that party, Scott! The only place I know where I can get chemicals that do that are in that closet! It fit. I had the key! I swear!”

Scott didn’t say anything. Just looked at Stiles with sorrow. “Don’t give me that look! The key was here! The message was on the board. I wrote it. It was _my_ handwriting, Scott! I left that message for him to go after Kira!” Stiles knew he just sounded more and more crazy as he went on, but someone had to know. Someone had to believe and keep an eye on him.

“Stiles, why would you want to hurt Kira?” Scott asked, approaching Stiles like he was a wild animal.

“I-,” Stiles continued to pace. “I don’t know, Scott. Of course, I didn’t want to hurt her!” His hands were still on his head as he tried to catch his breath.

“So you didn’t do it. No motive. You don’t even remember it, Stiles. Kira’s your friend,” Scott was getting closer.

Stiles shook his head while he tried to gather his thoughts. “No. _No_. I know it was me.”

Scott’s hand rested on Stiles’ shoulder. “When was the last time you slept?”

Melissa was going through the questionnaire with Stiles. He answered everything as honestly as he could.

“How much are you sleeping?”

“Um… maybe 8 hours?” Melissa nodded. “In 3 days.”

Her pencil stopped. She put down the clipboard and Stiles saw the list of his symptoms. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Melissa guided him to a bed and took out a needle.

In Stiles state of mind, he didn’t even register his usual fear of the pointy tools. Melissa injected something and had Stiles lay down.

“That should be better. You’ll be feeling better soon.”

“What’d you give me?” Stiles could feel the effects already.

“A mild sedative. You are one extremely sleep-deprived kid.” Melissa tucked him in and brushed his hair out of his face.

Without thinking, Stiles said, “Thanks, Mom.” He didn’t regret it, and he wouldn’t apologize about it later. The world was black.

Stiles woke up to find his room empty. When he wandered outside, the nurse’s station was also empty. Without questioning it, his body glided down the hallway on its own. He felt strange; like he was looking through someone else’s eyes.

He opened the door to the morgue and stood inside, looking from tag to tag on the refrigerated caskets. They were coming. Stiles didn’t know who or what, but he knew they would be here for him. His mind was clear though. Not a care in the world about the impending danger.

“Ashes to ashes,” he whispered to no one. One of the mountain ash pills he always kept with him broke and expanded in the familiar way it always did. It nearly filled the room before Stiles gathered it all with wave of his hand.

“Solid.” There was the sphere again. The metallic shine caught Stiles attention and he walked up to it to touch, like it was his first time. He was fascinated even though he practiced this command so many times already.

When he held it to his face, the reflection told him everything. His blood ran cold, and he could feel a pit in his stomach. Except, it wasn’t his blood anymore, and it wasn’t his body. He looked at the face in the reflection.

It was his face… but it definitely wasn’t him. Stiles tried to scream, throw things, stomp around like a child. He tried to curl up into himself and shut himself off from the world, but all he could do was watch the curious look on his face.

Then, they arrived. The black samurai looking things just appeared out of thin air. Stiles knew what was happening already. He closed his eyes as he ripped through the samurai with ease.

 _This isn’t me_. He thought as the mountain ash massacred the samurai. _It can’t be me._


	3. Chapter 3

“Scott?” Stiles’ broken voice came through the speakers of Scott’s phone.

“Stiles? Are you alright? It’s pretty late,” Scott said, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew that it couldn’t have been earlier than 2 in the morning.

“Scott, I need help,” Stiles whispered. The voice was so small. Stiles was terrified.

Scott was off his bed, pulling on random articles of clothing from the floor. “Stiles, where are you?” Before grabbing the shirt from off his chair, he knocked on the wall that separated his room and Isaac’s.

“Please come get me.” Stiles paused for what seemed like an eternity. “Scott, I’m scared.” Stiles kept sniffling uncontrollably. He was crying… or shivering. Scott couldn’t tell.

“Stiles, I need to know where you are now.” Scott was fully dressed and going for his keys. Isaac stumbled through Scott’s door as he pulled on a shirt.

“I… I don’t know. It’s so cold. It’s so, so cold.” Shivering then. “It smells so bad, Scott. And my leg… my leg hurts so much.” Stiles was outright crying at that point. Scott couldn’t find the keys anywhere on his desk. “I can’t move. It hurts, Scott! Please… please find me…”

“Stiles, I’m going to call your dad. We’ll find you. I promise.” Scott was frantically running around, looking for those damn keys.

“No!” Stiles exclaimed in a hushed tone. “You can’t call my dad. Promise me you won’t call him. You can’t call him!”

“Ok, ok. I won’t call him Stiles. Just tell me what you can see.” Scott found his keys in some jeans on the floor. He and Isaac ran towards out of Scott’s room to leave.

“It’s… Scott, I have to go. My phone’s going to die. Scott, please find me,” Stiles whispered quickly. He hung up.

Scott cursed and pulled up Stiles contact again. He pressed the call button. It only rang once before Stiles picked up.

“Scott?”

Scott could feel his heart crawling up his throat. Stiles had been calling out Scott’s name so much as of late. It was like he was pleading for help, but Scott hadn’t realized. His friend was slipping away, and he could only grasp at the dust left behind.

“Stiles, where are you? Tell me what you see.” Scott felt the tears welling up as his voice cracked. “Tell me what you see.”

“It’s… It’s a basement, I think. Industrial. It’s so cold,” Stiles rasped into the phone.

“Stiles, why are you whispering?”

There was a silence on the phone. Isaac was texting everyone to get started on the search.

“… Because I don’t think I’m alone,” Stiles cried.

Scott’s heart dropped as the call ended again.

**Weeks Later**

Stiles watched. He watched through the Nogitsune’s eyes as it brought pain, chaos, and strife, as promised. Even after he was released from the fox demon’s hold over his mind, he remembered.

The feeling of Scott’s blood running through his fingers as he twisted the katana in his best friend’s abdomen, throwing Derek’s heavy body against the large pillar in the loft, meticulously putting together a bomb… killing Allison.

Even so, the memory that haunted him most was the memory of the pure _enjoyment_ from playing with the lives of Beacon Hills.

Now, he sat on the couch in the McCall’s living room. Even with the blanket, he shivered uncontrollably. He felt radiating pain coming from every single cell in his body. More than anything, he felt the heavy weight of guilt.

His shoulders sagged as he bent over, staring into the carpet. His eyes were downcast and empty. His body just slumped over itself.

Scott didn’t leave his side, even though he killed his first love. Isaac fled the country, not wanting to face the pain of everything that reminded him of Allison. Lydia shut herself into her room, recovering from her kidnapping and the death of her best friend. Derek went to visit Cora, dragging Peter with him. Kira was training with her mom elsewhere for a few more weeks.

Everyone was split because of the death of their friend… _No._ The _murder_ of their friend.

Scott jostled Stiles shoulder, pulling him away from his thoughts. Scott took his friend’s hand in his own and drained a bit of pain. Stiles barely felt it improve, but he smiled gratefully at the crooked-jawed boy anyways.

Deaton told Stiles that he would feel like this for a few more days. He said that Stiles needed to just tough it out before he could get better.

Stiles didn’t think the guilt would ever go away, but he smiled anyways. He squeezed Scott’s hand, grateful for the friendship. He would get better, and he would protect everyone better. The Nogitsune may have left a gaping hole in his heart, but he also left him with strength.

Stiles could use his newfound abilities better than before. Allison wouldn’t have died if the Nogitsune didn’t have access to the overwhelming power of mountain ash. From now on, Stiles intended to only use the ability for his friends.

With the memories at the forefront of his mind, he wrapped Scott in a hug. If he was to be riddled with them anyways, he would use them as a reminder and a warning. A reminder of the pain in his friends’ eyes and a warning of his power.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles collapsed onto his bed, glad to be done with the Deadpool. He had been completely exhausted – mentally, physically, and magically. No one had died this time around, and they even added new people to their small unorthodox pack.

Stiles stared at the ceiling, taking a moment to catch his breath. It was moments like these that made him feel the crippling darkness inside. He didn’t know if Scott still felt the clouds around his heart, but he hoped that Scott of all people could be spared the cruel fate.

Stiles took a deep breath with his eyes closed, taking inventory of himself. There were flashes of dark days. Pain and misery, blood and screams… Allison. It always circled around to Allison. The memories stung, but they were grounding. They reminded Stiles of what he had now, and his vow.

There was a glimpse of stubble and piercing eyes. Stiles drew the line there and opened his eyes. There was no dignity in thinking of someone who wasn’t around anymore. He had people around him that needed his attention more.

**Weeks Later**

“Theo?” Scott slowly approached the soaked teenager.

Hesitation. The boy didn’t turn to meet Scott for a moment. Stiles felt the hairs on his arm rise and a shiver crawl down his spine. Something wasn’t right.

The handsome boy turned around and smiled shyly, surprisingly resembling Isaac. “Hey, guys. It’s been a while.”

**Weeks Later**

Stiles ran. Rows and rows of lockers flew through his peripheral as he pushed his legs to the limit. Whatever he did, he didn’t look back, not wanting to see the milky eyed Donovan. He pushed through the library doors, stumbling through.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Stiles frantically whispered to himself. He darted around the library looking for something, _anything_ , that could help him.

The mountain ash didn’t work on Donovan, so Stiles needed something else.

“What the fuck!” he screamed.

The library doors crashed open, revealing the snarling criminal. Stiles was completely exposed, standing out in the open, but it wasn’t like hiding would’ve helped.

“Donovan, look. I really don’t want to hurt you. Just turn yourself in, and this will all be over.” Stiles pleaded, reaching into himself for that familiar power tingling underneath his skin.

Donovan launched himself at Stiles without warning. The wall rushed forward in an instant. The cool, inky black luster held true as the body rammed full force into it. Donovan propelled backward into a support beam.

Before Stiles could react, a metal rod dropped from above, driving itself through Donovan. Stiles knew he should be accustomed to the sight already, but he couldn’t help it. He threw himself at the nearest trash can and emptied his stomach contents.

**Days Later**

“You killed… You killed someone,” Scott stated as-a-matter-of-factly. Water flowed down his face, dripping off his uneven jawline.

Stiles couldn’t say anything. He felt his heart plummet and his head drop, eyes shifting to the wrench in Scott’s grip.

“God, you’re not even denying it,” Scott’s voice raising slowly. “You _killed_ Donovan!”

“No…” Stiles could barely get his voice to protest, feeling the darkness enveloping his body.

“We don’t kill people, _Stiles!”_ Scott screamed accusingly at the top of his lungs.

Stiles knew what that tone meant. Knew that it came back to Allison. To the darkness of his past. For a moment, there was overwhelming dread, making his entire body feel like dead weight. But that moment passed. There was only blinding anger raging through his ears now.

He worked so hard to keep his promise – even though it was a promise to himself. He let the angry tears through. It didn’t matter with all the rain anyways.

“I can’t believe you, Stiles!” Scott’s puppy eyes lighting with fury and disappointment. “You’re supposed to know better! You’re supposed to… You’re supposed to know that there’s always another way! Another option! _Always_!”

And the dam broke. “You’re the true alpha! Guess what – all of us can’t be true alphas! Some of us have to make mistakes! Some us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes! _Some of us are human_!”

Scott looked at Stiles with something akin to disgust. “Well, you haven’t been completely human for a while now, have you?”

Again, always back to that time of death. Back to the darkness that threatened his sanity every single second of every single day. Back to Scott losing his first love.

Stiles sniffled, pulling himself together. He levelled Scott with a blank mask before throwing his Jeep door open and driving away, bloody wrench resting in the passenger seat.


End file.
